Dillinger's Rise to Senior Executive
by ClockworkScales
Summary: Ed Dillinger is coworker to Flynn and Lora at ENCOM. To his distaste their relationship has budded and interferes with his progress on Sark and the MCP. However, he is determined to finish the programs. Sark's first task is to get Yori's password in order to gain unrestricted access to the Solar Sail. Some Sark/Yori.
1. Chapter 1

Edward Dillinger worked in the cubicle opposite Flynn's at ENCOM. He was tired of Flynn's bravado and his escapades with the woman Lora. They had been working under their current CEO together for a few years now, but Flynn's relationship with Lora was only just beginning, much to Dillinger's dislike.

Dillinger felt his blood boil every time he heard them whispering together, their chairs sliding over into the next cubicle to share a short discussion or kiss together. He heard them make their plans for dinner and the weekend. He heard more than he ever cared to know.

He swivelled at his desk and faced the opening to Flynn's blue cubical one afternoon. The man typed at his computer like a smug know-it-all. Dillinger cleared his throat and Flynn spun around.

'What's wrong, Edward?'

Dillinger scowled. 'I'd prefer if you'd call me Ed, actually. You should know that by now.'

'No need to be hostile, I was joking!' Flynn laughed, sliding forward and lowering his voice slightly. 'What's the problem?'

'I was just wondering if you and Lora would be able to keep the noise down. I'm finding it disruptive to my work. Can't you send each other emails?'

Flynn's cheeky grin slowly turned downwards. He replied with hushed tones.

'She's right next to me, what's the point? It's a waste of effort. And other people aren't bothered by us talking together.'

Dillinger took a deep breath and released the air, slowly. He sat up straight in his chair and flattened his hands against his blue work shirt.

'Do you want me to report this to the boss?'

Flynn held up his hands.

'Okay, whatever, _Ed_. We'll try keep the noise levels to a minimum.'

'Thank you very much,' Dillinger said stiffly, before turning back to his keyboard. He shortly realised, however, that such a simple intervention was never going to be enough.

* * *

The very next day, Lora and Flynn's talking had resumed, although less frequently. The hushed breathing of the couple made Dillinger's skin tingle. He felt his blood pressure rise, his body tense with rage. He really could not work under these conditions!

Dillinger followed Lora as she went to get her 11 o'clock coffee. His footsteps were soft, but he followed a good ten meters behind and met her at the coffee machine in the adjacent room. As she turned the machine on, she noticed Dillinger and pulled out an extra mug for him. It had the company name ENCOM written on it in big blue letters.

'Busy day, huh?' she asked, lamely, trying to make conversation. She eyed Dillinger's flattened hair with the dart of an eye and smiled. 'You have some paper in your hair.'

Dillinger brushed a hand over his head, but no obvious thing fell out of the air in front of his face. Lora started to laugh, and he blushed, feeling flustered at such a simple prank. The coffee machine rumbled and Lora placed her cup underneath the funnel. She watched the coffee pour out of it. The heavy, sharp scent emanated from the machine.

Dillinger stared at Lora, and spoke boldly.

'Lora, I was wondering if you and Flynn would be able to tone down your relationship while you're at work.'

Lora's big eyes stared at him.

'I must admit, I did hear you talking to Flynn yesterday. I suppose it's easy to get ahead of yourself when you're in a new relationship,' Lora said. She took the full coffee mug and decided instead to hand it to Dillinger. 'I'll try my best to keep the noise levels down. But if it gets bad again, maybe you should try moving your desk.'

'Moving my desk?' Dillinger repeated, feeling insulted, but taking the warm mug in his hands. He looked at Lora's sincere face, and his face softened. 'Very well, I suppose that's more anybody can ask for. Thank you for your concern.'

'No problem,' Lora said. She placed the other mug underneath the machine. She eyed the cup in Dillinger's hands. 'Enjoy your coffee.'

Dillinger walked back to his desk down the continuous blue cubicles, feeling a sense of comfort as he established himself inside of his own. He worked on his Sark program, debugging a number of _if_ loops when Lora sat down at her desk behind him several minutes later. He heard the noise of the cup clunking onto her desk. He heard the typing all around him, and it meshed with the comforting buzz of background noise. And he heard, to his relief, no sounds from Flynn or Lora's romantic escapades. He felt his muscles relax and the headache he had developped disappeared within a good five to ten minutes. He rest his feet on the floor, reflecting on his journey into programming.

He never had the ambitions his cohorts had. He wasn't interested in producing video games or arcade games as was the rage at the time, but was instead interested in producing security software. Namely, programs to infiltrate weaknesses in computer programs themselves. He felt great glee at the thought that revenge was within his reach if he ever needed it. After debugging Sark's _if_ loop statements, he was pleased to see that that the program worked relatively well against a mock-program. All he needed now, was to test it on something real.


	2. Chapter 2

Dillinger was pleased with his progress on the Sark program. He was at the point where he could both test it and expand on its abilities with the help of the Master Control Program... It used to be called the Master Chess Program, until he altered it.

What Dillinger wasn't pleased about was the revival of Flynn and Lora's petty workplace romance. Once again they spoke during work hours and had their little moments of fun. But Dillinger was at the receiving end of it. He decided to go approach their senior executive.

The man was somebody Dillinger secretly envied, but hated deep down. He hated him because he was very friendly and jovial, with small dreams for the company. Dillinger believed ENCOM could be much more than it was, but he did not share this view publicly yet. Not until he was in a better position.

'Good day, Mr. Franklin,' Dillinger announced as he entered the man's office and closed the door behind him. Mr. Franklin was a physically non-imposing man with a beard and small watery eyes. But he was always smiling. Oh, how Dillinger hated his smile. It was the embodiment of everything he hated in the world. It was the sign of his weakness.

'Good day, Edward,' Mr. Franklin beamed, sitting up from his flat black computer terminal. Dillinger didn't flinch at the use of his full name, but had no benefit to gain from complaining. He believed he deserved to sit on that chair. 'You wanted to speak with me about something?'

'Yes,' Dillinger stated, striding forward and adjusting his hair as he walked. His smooth voice reverberated throughout the room. 'I am finding my work disrupted by a few coworkers of mine. I have approached them directly asking them to keep the noise down, but they refuse to do so and I find it detrimental to my work ethic.'

'Hm, yes, that is a worry. You're working on that Sark program, aren't you? And you're fixing the chess program?'

'Yes, the chess program will no longer cause that poor Sophos anti virus to run kernal errors,' Dillinger replied. 'People should be able to use their chess programs at work soon enough without any abnormal access by the program causing shut downs, do not worry about that.'

'Very good!' Mr. Franklin said. He got up from his desk and walked over to Dillinger, placing a hand on his shouler. 'Now, do tell me the names of these workers. Depending on who they are, I might be able to sort something out.' Mr. Franklin gave Dillinger a wink. 'I'm not one to interrupt romances, but I've been meaning to move a few people around anyway.'

Dillinger nodded curtly. 'Lora Baines and Kevin Flynn are the two.'

'That might work out well enough. Miss Baines has been working on a project related to the digitising lab so it might be best to move her over there – both for your benefit and the lab itself. She'll be able to work with Dr. Walter Gibbs more closely, you see.'

Dillinger smiled. Both to amuse the senior executive, but also because he was relieved to hear Flynn and Lora would be split up at last. He was grateful the senior executive had a soft spot for him, though he wasn't a hundred per cent sure why. He liked to think it was because he was charming and not quite so annoying as his coworkers.

'Thank you very much, Mr. Franklin. I am very grateful,' Dillinger said. Mr Franklin nodded and went to his desk.

'Tell Miss Baines to come see me, would you?'

'Of course, Mr. Franklin,' Dillinger replied. He shut the door to the senior executive's office with a gentle click, a sly grin passing across his face.

Dillinger could not begin to describe the glee he felt as he told Lora the senior executive wanted to see her. What made it all the better was the look on Flynn's face and the glare he gave Dillinger.

'You can thank Lora for this,' Dillinger told him. 'She's the one who suggested I move my desk.'

Flynn slid over across the carpet on his chair, glowering at Dillinger.

'You jerk, Ed. Her job could be at stake!'

'Senior executive knows best,' Dillinger stated proudly. 'Or do you want to go argue with him?'

Flynn's furrowed eyebrows became ever so slightly raised. Dillinger knew at that moment that their tolerable relationship had suddenly became something similar to hatred. A man named Alan was moved to take Lora's place. He was definitely a lot more tolerable than Lora, but it was helpful that Flynn and Alan didn't share sweet special moments together.

Dillinger decided how he would test his new program. He would have Sark track Yori – the name of Lora's program. This was both out of spite and also of curiosity. He knew Yori's program was important for monitoring data transmission and processing of ENCOM's major networks. It was the perfect place to begin investigating if he wanted to develop Sark and the Master Control Program to their full potential.


	3. Chapter 3

In the Grid, Sark was rezzed in the initial processing bay. All Sark knew was that he had to find a program named Yori and monitor her interactions with the Solar Sail very closely. He was aware that it would only take a few nanoseconds to find her, but he had to make sure his introduction to the network was smooth. He didn't want to arouse suspicion.

He had a bulbous nose and a sharp, steady gaze. His hair was tucked beneath his suit whose blue circuitry flashed and hummed. His jaw was square, his demeanor confident.

The initial processing bay was a dark room with glimmering lines across the walls. He approached the nearing band of guards with a smile and a wave.

'Greetings, programs. My name is Sark and I am here to carry out the instructions of my User. He wants me to speak with the program Yori, and immediately. Would you be able to direct me to her?'

He knew his charm would convince the guards. After all, he looked like a perfectly trustworthy program. And who were they to question the directions of his User? No decent program would lie about such a thing. And he didn't have the look of a trojan. He was well crafted, he had his User to thank for that.

'Very well,' one of the guards stated, placing its baton by its side. 'Please come this way, Sark.'

Sark walked surely, surrounded by a guard on each side. The guards had large torsos and hidden faces. They walked around several large towers with bright blinking cyan lights before arriving at a low slender building. The guards pointed inside and then left Sark to his own devices.

'Thank you, good programs,' Sark told them as they left, eyeing the elongated building with interest. It had black windows. In the distance he saw the vaste expanse. That was the road the Solar Sail would follow. Sark made his way into the building, the grey door sliding open as he approached. The room was filled with terminals with bright blinking buttons and programs operating them. He stood in the doorway as a program approached him. He recognised her immediately. Yori.

'Yori, you're just the program I've been looking for,' Sark announced. Sark slipped a hand into hers and gave it a firm shake. 'My name is Sark and I am here under the request of my User to observe the information being processed and transported by the Solar Sail.'

Yori was a beautiful program, Sark couldn't deny that. He was not surprised his User would request the help of such a resourceful program. She had high resolution and a good processing speed, he could tell by the way her large eyes flitted across him and processed every last detail of his appearance. Yes, Sark knew that Yori could see that he was well made and by a clever User indeed.

'I am required to request a password from you,' Yori announced. 'After all, information processed by the Solar Sail can't be obtained from just any program.'

Sark nodded, and smiled at the program.

'Yes, I understand completely.' He said smoothly. He took her hand and bent forward, giving the program's hand a kiss. He felt the circuitry on her suit jitter in response, watching the blue circuits flash bright cyan. 'A very pretty response from a very pretty program.' Sark stated.

He noticed Yori pull her hand out from his grasp.

'You're handsome, but I'm not going to let the password slip to just any old program,' Yori admitted, and she flashed Sark a daring grin. 'You'll have to do better than that.'

Sark took a step back and then made steady eye contact with Yori.

'I don't suppose you know somewhere we could go and talk?'

'Oh, please,' Yori exclaimed, and she rolled her eyes at him. 'I know your type. And the answer is no.'

Sark's insides crumbled. He felt uncertain. He wasn't programmed to deal with this sort of response. His User seemed confident that it would work. Suddenly, he felt something... a compulsion, conviction.

'Are there any communication terminals around here?' Sark queried. 'I need to speak with my User.'

'Sure,' Yori said, and she pointed out the door and across the loading deck. 'Just over there.'

'Thank you very much,' Sark stated, giving the program a short bow before disappearing.

As the door was closing behind him Sark overheard Yori speaking with another program.

'Who was that?'

'Some program called Sark. He wanted to know my password.'

'For the Sail? But that's restricted access.'

'I said no, you don't need to worry about that.'

'Don't you think we might need to contact somebody about him?'

'No, he seems harmless. I wouldn't worry. He's actually kind of charming.'

The door closed behind him. Sark walked to the communication tower to receive his next instructions from his User.


	4. Chapter 4

Dillinger was busy writing a new add-on to the program Sark when Lora entered his cubicle. Dillinger spun around on his chair to look at the woman, who wore large glasses and a white coat.

'I noticed your program Sark tried to gain access to the network data via Yori,' she said, leaning against his cubicle wall and crossing her arms. Dillinger smiled curtly.

'The purpose of Sark is to monitor the security of the networks. It is doing as it's meant to. I meant to test him,' Dillinger replied. 'I thought you might have been here to complain about your new cubicle.'

'Oh, that,' Lora admitted, waving her hand. 'It's better off this way. I'm able to communicate with my colleagues at the digitiser much more easily.'

'The digitiser is certainly an ambitious project. I am pleased to hear you are able to make greater progress on it without any... distractions,' Dillinger said smoothly, and he eyed Flynn's cubicle behind Lora.

Lora gave Dillinger a gentle smile.

'Well, let your Sark program do what it wants with Yori then. It's all for the good of the networks, after all.'

Suddenly, Flynn's voice emanated from behind Lora and he got to his feet.

'Now, now, that's not fair,' Flynn said, coming into view next to Lora. Dillinger wasn't very pleased that his cubicle was being crowded but he supposed he couldn't complain about it at the present moment.

'It is perfectly fair. I'm in charge in enhancing the network's security and making sure everything is stable.'

'But how do we know you're not spying on us?' Flynn demanded. Dillinger raised an eyebrow.

'Any data met by Sark is decrypted and then encrypted again without my any relays to me.'

Flynn could find no argument to that retort and he returned to his desk, Lora close behind him. Dillinger was pleased to have his privacy yet again. He was gradually making the Master Control Program more and more clever – more complete. Once Sark had secured the monitoring of the networks, all data would be relayed to the Master Control Program. Dillinger had noticed that queer chess program used a certain code to interfere with the Sophos anti virus program, and took advantage of that, making an entirely new program based off of it. The Master Control Program would act to make the networks as efficient as possible. That meant no stray programs running around without being checked by the MCP first. It required a little extra processing power, but it would ultimately result in a more secure network.

Dillinger worked hard on his programs, convinced that if he presented a good enough security program to Mr. Franklin that he would have a good enough reason to take the position of senior executive. If his program was so good that it needed extra processing power, why not be senior executive? Why not let the MCP run on the senior executive's extra powerful computer terminal?

Dillinger made some brief changes to Sark and then ran the program once more.

* * *

Sark received his new instructions from his User. Dillinger was certainly a very capable and admirable User, and Sark took great pride in making use of his instructions. His words were his guidance, his words were his purpose. Sark was grateful to have the help of his User. His identity disk, given to him by a passing guard, floated into his hands. Sark's blue suit flickered as it processed the new information. He felt more confident in his task, this time.

He waited outside the Solar Sail communication building, waiting. Then, he pressed his hand against the wall. With a red flash, it flickered, and it became pixellated for a moment. He had just produced a disruption in the data packets being delivered to the building. He pulled his hand away, the red staying as it was. As he did so, the automatic door opened and Yori appeared.

'You...' Yori began, staring. 'I take it you got your instructions from your User?'

'I certainly did, but not without your help,' Sark admitted. He pointed at the red pulse on the wall. 'As a security program I couldn't help noticing something breached your building. I will need your password in order to have it fixed.'

Yori looked from Sark's blue suit to the red mark on the wall, considering his proposal.

'I am happy for us to go somewhere private if you're uncomfortable with revealing your password to everybody in the network,' Sark admitted. He held out his hand towards Yori. 'Shall we go somewhere?'

Yori nodded briefly and took Sark's hand. She pulled him along a tall green wall. It was a few moments before she pressed a numeric sequence on a thin door and it slid open. Sark and Yori entered the room, and the door shut behind them. Sark took a breath as he peered around the room. This was a secure communications terminal, he could sense it. It was the perfect place to gain access to a needed password.

Yori tip toed over to the wall and swiped her hand. With a flash of colours the walls exploded with colours and patterns. Sark had never seen anything like it before.

'I've never had a security program in here before, Sark,' Yori began. And she took his hands and pulled him over to a seat. Sark stared around the room in bewilderment. 'You'll promise not to tell anybody?'

Sark hardly listened to her.

'This terminal looks wonderful. What did you do to it?'

'My User wanted to make sure I had an extra secure terminal to rest in if I ever need repairs. Thankfully that's not often. I sometimes bring programs here to chat, you'd understand.'

Sark stared into Yori's eyes. They were wide and innocent. Sark could see why Dillinger wanted access to this program's password. He imagined the cryptic code would be just as beautiful, if not more so, than she was. He imagined it was carefully crafted to contain the perfect proportion of numbers, lower case, upper case letters, and even symbols.

'You are a very well constructed program, Yori. Your User must be proud,' Sark admitted, his voice soft. 'But I must tell you, we won't be able to spend a good amount of time together after you provide me with the Solar Sail network password. I do have a job to do. My User has made it my top priority to monitor the Solar Sail's networks.'

'You're so bold,' Yori glowed. Her circuits lit up in response. Sark was pleased to see her so responsive to him. 'If this is the last time we're to spend quality time together, then I want to make it worth it.'

'Is a couple of extra nanoseconds all you need?' Sark questioned. Yori smiled broadly, and nodded.

'That's all, yes. I hope it's not too much?'

'Not at all,' Sark said. The program touched Yori's chin and stared deeply into her eyes. He watched as her actions unravel, revealing the nature of her inner programming. It was an interesting sight. Yori first fluttered her eyelids and then touched Sark's neck. Sark held his breath as the program leaned forward.

The two kissed, and as Sark had promised Yori, it was a few nanoseconds extra. It was a special moment. Sark felt the crack code on her lips for the Solar Sail password access, and for those extra few nanoseconds he was able to deduce that her program had recently spoken with a number of programs, one name of which was Tron. Who or what was Tron? It was a program whose name he did not recognise.

Sark opened his eyes and met Yori's gaze at the end of the kiss. Yori frowned.

'I hope I don't sound too insulting, but you're not a very good kisser.'

Sark got to his feet.

'My job is to protect and manage information, my dear Yori, not to give it away to any pretty program I meet.' Sark said, before giving Yori a polite bow. 'My User thanks your User. I have been very grateful for our time together.'

Yori quietly let him out of the room, and Sark quickly used the crack code to manage the data he had gathered previously. Just as he arrived at the Solar Sail network building, the password was cracked and he was given unrestricted access to all information being processed by the Solar Sail network. He found a spare working terminal and put his program to good use, all the while waiting for further instructions from his User.


	5. Chapter 5

Dillinger drank the final dregs from his coffee cup. It was now cold and the bitterness was unpleasant. He got to his feet to refill it, his mind carefully relaying the progress he had made with Sark. Sark was busy monitoring the transmission of data packets for security purposes. This was as it should be, and was a perfect starting point.

As he got to his feet and peered over the masses of cubicles, his eyes landed on the long windows at the end of the room. Outside, the sun was beginning to fall under the peaks of skyscrapers and buildings. He glanced at his watch, it was nearly the end of the working day.

As he strode towards the coffee room, he felt a hand on his arm. He turned to meet Flynn's gaze.

'If you want to complain about Lora's new desk arrangement, you should do so with the senior executive,' Dillinger told him, shrugging Flynn's hand off.

Flynn, however, followed him to the coffee room. Dillinger ignored him as he walked close behind him, but when they entered the coffee room and Dillinger shoved his mug under the machine, Flynn leaned against the benchtop and stared at Dillinger. Dillinger stared back. He turned the machine on. The machine made the bench shake with the grinding of coffee beans.

'Look, Ed...' Flynn began, speaking over the noise. 'I'm sorry I seemed suspicious earlier. You just get very edgy at times, have you noticed that?'

'I have noticed that,' Dillinger agreed, speaking loudly. 'But it isn't news to me. What do you want?'

Flynn leaned over and turned the rumbling coffee machine off. It spluttered frothy milk out of its funnel in response.

'We can't talk with that machine making a racket,' Flynn said, resting his hands on the bench. 'I was wondering if you'd like to go out and play some arcade games with Lora, Alan and me later. It could be a fun night out. Besides, I think we should try make things right between us.'

'I was never concerned there was anything wrong in the first place,' Dillinger said. Flynn grimaced and sighed in exhasperation.

'Look, Ed. You're hostile, I know you hate my guts -'

'And you hate mine. I don't see the -'

'Look - It's nearly time to go home. Try to be friendly for once, huh? Just come to the arcade with us, okay?' Flynn said, raising his voice.

There was a long silence. Dillinger glanced at Flynn, considering his offer carefully. Lora put him up to it, surely. Dillinger picked up his coffee mug, looked inside, and placed it back onto the coffee machine's metal grid.

'I'll think about it,' Dillinger said.

Flynn seemed to relax a lot more in that moment, his shoulders lowered and his posture straightened. He nodded.

'We'll be waiting by the elevator at ten past five if you want to come,' Flynn stated.

Dillinger turned the machine back on. It rumbled and growled, making loud clunking noises. Flynn turned and left the room, walking very quickly.

* * *

People were beginning to leave work for the day. After completing their time slips they turned the terminals and lights off to their work area. Friendly banter erupted between coworkers wishing one another well for the weekend and complaining about the lack of things on television that evening. Dillinger sat at his terminal as he turned it off, collecting his blue suit coat and donning it. He peered over his cubicle to the end of the room. Next to the coffee room was the elevator. Alan was waiting there, and caught Dillinger's eye.

Dillinger pushed his chair behind his desk and collected his briefcase, taking the mug in his spare hand. He watched Flynn making a few last minute program edits before shutting his computer down and heading towards the elevator. Once Flynn was a good twenty meters away and close to Alan, Dillinger approached, striding down the walkway. He glanced at Alan and Flynn.

'Ah! He comes!' Alan beamed. 'Ed Dillinger has decided to entertain us, after all.'

Dillinger forced himself to smile, lifting the mug in his hand.

'I just need to dispose of this and then I'll be with you.'

As he cleaned the mug in the adjacent room under hot water and dishwashing fluid, he heard Lora join the group. He listened to their conversation as he scrubbed the bottom of the mug with a sponge.

'Is he coming?' Lora asked Flynn.

'Yes, I managed to convince the bastard.'

'Don't say that! He can hear you from here,' Lora urged.

'I'm glad you guys decided to ask me to go to the arcade with you guys,' Alan said. 'It's a good way to get to know each other, don't you think?'

'It sure is!' Flynn's voice emanated through the wall. 'Besides, you get to play some rad arcade games, and that's always a plus, am I right?'

The muffled conversation was soon interrupted as Dillinger returned to the elevator, his mug now drying in the coffee room. He pressed down his hair and buttoned up his suit. Then he shook hands with Alan, having not formally met him yet.

'You're working in security, I hear,' Alan commented. 'I've been working on a seeding program.'

'Seeding, eh?' Dillinger said. 'What's the program for?'

'I'm making it for an insurance company mainly, so they'll have a secure data exchange program,' Alan explained.

'For security, are you? You're in my division, then,' Dillinger said, pleased to hear he wasn't the only one with a brain at ENCOM. 'I wouldn't mind seeing your code sometime, network security is my speciality, after all. I'm sure it would be educational.'

Alan turned to Flynn and nudged his arm.

'See? He's not so bad.'

Flynn grimaced. 'I suppose not.'

Their conversation was cut short as Lora pressed the button on the elevator. The button lit up, and within a few seconds the ding of the elevator sounded its arrival. The metal doors slid open. Lora entered first.

'Ready to hit the arcade, boys?'


	6. Chapter 6

Sark received new instructions from his User. As he returned to his terminal, he heard some voices come from around him.

'That new guy, Sark. He's very efficient.'

'I know what you mean. He can process five times as much information as me at ten times the speed. I'm envious, actually. Think he'll tell us how to do it?'

'Nah, that information belongs to his User. I don't think he'd share it willingly.'

Sark smirked at his terminal as he heard this, feeling his chest expand with pride.

He continued accessing data about transport carriers. From within the data matrices he extrapolated the code and concatenated it with the navigation code of the Solar Sail. This took some time, unfortunately, but he was pleased to know that would be doing his User proud. He felt a stab of irritation as he felt Yori's hand slip onto his own left one, but he brushed it away, focusing on his terminal with greater zeal.

'Please leave me alone, Yori. I don't have time for this,' Sark demanded.

Yori's voice reached his ear. Sark could sense the program behind him, looking over his shoulder.

'You're copying the Solar Sail code.'

'That I am.'

Sark was keen to avoid addressing the anxiety in her tone.

'What are you doing with it?'

'If you had a better pair of processing units perhaps you would be able to see more clearly that I am creating a new type of Solar Sail.'

'A Carrier?' Yori queried.

'Yes.' Sark replied. He didn't dare look at her, not even when the program leaned across his terminal to try and catch his eye. She eyed him with the gaze of a doe. Sark's arms became tense. He finally met her gaze promptly before pushing her away from his terminal with his arm.

'Begone, you silly program! My User has made this project top priority. Don't you have your own job to do?' Sark yelled.

Yori yelped. Sark heard her quick footwork as she tried to keep herself from falling over in response to his sudden aggression. A nanosecond later, she gave Sark's blue-suited shoulder a prod with a slender finger, her voice now stern.

'I do have a job. It just happens to involve observing and monitoring the work of the programs in the communications building. Especially any projects related to the Solar Sail. You have a duty to report to me what you are up to.'

'I have no code in me stating that purpose,' Sark said sharply, pressing a blue and green button in sequence on his terminal. 'I am a security program. My reasons are my own. My work is my own. I have no need to report to others what I am doing, because that is what a security program does. He is secretive and works efficiently for the betterment of all programs.'

Sark saw Yori cross her arms out of the corner of his eye. He spun a few red dials on his terminal, feeling the code tremble under his fingertips. He placed an entirely new code within the mesh of the Solar Sail navigation system and the data of transport carriers. He did this quickly, the image of a great grey carrier machine appearing in his mind's eye. It would not be complete for awhile, but when it was, it would be magnificent.

'If that's how you feel about it, then I won't bother you any more,' Yori said simply. 'But I will be keeping a very close eye on you. That's what my User wants me to do, Sark.'

'Then do it,' Sark said, glad that this petty conversation was finally reaching its finality. 'But don't disturb me further.'


	7. Chapter 7

Dillinger was shoved unceremoniously between Alan and Lora at the back of a taxi cab. Flynn sat at the front next to the driver, stating that it would be cosier in the back without him there, his stature being larger than the three of them.

'This is rather uncomfortable,' Dillinger complained. 'How far away is this arcade anyway?'

'Only fifteen minutes,' Flynn replied. 'Calm yourself, Ed. Relish the moment you get this close to a woman, because it probably won't happen again for awhile.'

Alan coughed loudly. Dillinger fumed silently.

'Don't listen to him,' Lora told Dillinger. 'I think you're a gentleman.'

'I'm more gentlemanly than your so-called boyfriend will ever be,' Dillinger hissed back, under his breath. Flynn didn't seem to have heard him.

The taxi ride was uncomfortable to say the least. Dillinger hugged his briefcase close to his lap, his right shoulder digging into Alan's chest and Lora's hair tickling the left side of his face. Taxi was admittedly the cheapest way to get around nowadays, and they split the taxi payment equally between them once the ride was over. Dillinger kept telling himself the night out would be worth it, though he had trouble convincing himself.

_Perhaps they'd let me borrow some of their source code if I was nice enough. _Dillinger thought.

The group ate at a cheap diner next to the arcade. They ate buffalo wings and fries. Dillinger took great care not to get any grease or ketchup on his suit. Dillinger noticed that Flynn was trying his best not to make eye contact with him as they ate together.

'I heard a rumor that you were making a video game, Flynn,' Dillinger said, scooping up a scatter of salt on his chip before eating it. 'Why don't you tell us about that?'

Lora and Alan looked at Flynn with interest. Flynn cleaned his fingers and mouth on a napkin.

'How did you hear about that?' Flynn demanded. 'I haven't told anybody yet.'

'I read the code from one of your projects. It was on your desktop while you were out to lunch on Wednesday. You should have quit the program. It was careless of you to leave it there.'

Flynn was very still.

'What were you doing snooping around my desk?'

Dillinger rolled his eyes. 'I wasn't stealing anything, if that's what you are so concerned about. No, I was merely borrowing your printer when it caught my eye.'

Alan decided to interrupt the conflict. 'Yeah, what is it with ENCOM only providing one printer for every five people?'

Flynn murmured to himself and Dillinger nodded in agreement with Alan.

Lora touched Flynn's arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. 'Ready to go play some games?'

Flynn stood up and pointed at Dillinger.

'You _bet_ I am. And I challenge Ed to a battle at _Wizard of Wor_.'

Dillinger's eyes narrowed to meet the finger pointed in between his eyes, and pushed it away. He got to his feet.

'If I must, but I should say I've never played the game.'

The group got to their feet, reaching in their wallets for some quarters. Flynn dropped a few in earnest. His hands were shaking. Dillinger walked towards the door of the diner, the smell of greasy burgers disappearing as he met the night air, the smell of cigaretts and car fumes greeting him instead.

He could hear Flynn and Lora talking behind him.

'Calm down, Flynn. The point was for the two of you to be more friendly, remember?'

'Friendly? He's been _spying_ on me! He could have stolen the code for the games I've been developping!'

'Yes, well, he didn't. And be thankful for that. See? He has a heart deep down.'

'_Way_ deep down,' Flynn muttered bitterly. He jingled some coins in his pocket and then strode to the door where Dillinger was waiting. Dillinger was hit so hard in the back as Flynn passed that he almost fell onto the pavement. Flattening his suit with his palms, Dillinger's eyes burned a hole in Flynn's red shirt as he walked next door.

* * *

Flynn was ecstatic to have defeated Dillinger at _Wizard of Wor_, along with several other classic arcade games. It was nearing eight o'clock, and Dillinger was already feeling bored.

'Yes, win your games,' Dillinger told Flynn as he mashed the buttons of the arcade machine with his reddening fingers. 'Win _Space Invaders_. It won't make _you_ senior executive.'

'Senior executive, huh?' Flynn queried, playing at the machine next to him. 'That's ambitious.'

'I'm an ambitious person,' Dillinger retorted.

Suddenly, Dillinger's pixellated space ship exploded on screen and disappeared. Big letters spelling out GAME OVER appeared across the monitor with no high score screen to thank him for it. Dillinger joined Alan and Lora behind Flynn to watch him play. The screaming of children and the booming of music dampened the sound of Flynn's voice. People kept knocking into Dillinger's back as they passed. The bright lights flickered in his eyes as reflections.

'Can I ask for a favor, Flynn?' Dillinger said.

'And what might that be, _Ed_?' Flynn replied.

'Well,' Dillinger began. 'In regards to your computer game, I was wondering if I could borrow some of the source code. I want to implant some security programs into some of the images. You know, to fool people.'

'All you do is talk about work!' Flynn stated in exasperation. 'Why don't you play another machine? They're cheap, you know.'

'Answer my question first, and I'll consider it.'

The blips and explosions from _Space Invaders_ filled the silence between them.

'No,' Flynn stated. 'No, I won't let you. You've spied on me, and I want nothing to do with your security program. And you're not coming anywhere near the source code of my games!'

'Flynn!' Lora cried. 'Be reasonable! It's for work, okay?'

'Yeah, Flynn, give the guy a break,' Alan agreed. 'I think it's a clever way of hiding a program, especially since the game is unknown.'

'Well, it won't always be unknown,' Flynn argued, fiddling with the joystick. 'And it's my intellectual property, and I said no. So stop hasslin' me!'

Dillinger bowed his head and picked his briefcase off the floor from his feet. He felt disappointment in Flynn's response, but figured he should have known better.

'Very well. Then, I think it's time I go home,' Dillinger turned to Lora and Alan. 'I appreciate what you were trying to do with this, but frankly, I think it has merely aggravated Flynn.'

Lora looked disappointed, but Alan nodded and shook Dillinger's hand.

'I think it was good of you to come,' Alan said. 'No hard feelings, okay? And I'll let you look at my source code if you want – for the seeding program, I mean.'

'Thank you,' Dillinger said, shaking back and smiling at Alan. 'I am happy to have met you. I'll see you both at work next week.'

'See ya,' Lora murmured.

Flynn said nothing as Dillinger left the arcade.


	8. Chapter 8

Dillinger sat in his office chair at eight thirty in the morning, thirty minutes before ENCOM officially opened that day. He liked working in his cubicle in near-darkness, silence except for his own typing and movement. He found it very peaceful.

Dillinger occasionally spun around on his chair to look across the room at Flynn's empty cubicle, considering Friday's events at the arcade.

Dillinger wrote a segment on Sark and finally linked Sark and the MCP program together. Dillinger had worked on the MCP a great deal over the weekend, cooped up in his apartment in front of programming language manuals and in front of his own personal PC. The MCP now had a capability that Dillinger was immensely proud of: the ability to assimilate other programs and incorporate their code into its own. It worked in a very simple way.

It would take a program's code and insert it into its program. If the program didn't work, random changes were made with trial and error to try and debug the system. Of course, they weren't completely random, but potential options Dillinger had encoded into the MCP's system. Other things the MCP could do was delete segments or mix others together to try and debug such programs, but usually that wouldn't be necessary.

He questioned whether the MCP would be able to run successfully on his office computer. He imagined it would take up the entire processor, it was such a large program. And he couldn't imagine how slow it would be to run once the MCP started to "learn".

He ran Sark once more with his new edits, thinking what to do with the MCP.

He drummed his fingers on the keyboard without typing anything. He got up and walked to the coffee room. As he walked over, the near darkness he had previously enjoyed was giving way to the sun. Thankfully the windows prevented a large part of it reaching him.

To his disappointment, the coffee machine wouldn't turn on. Upon opening the machine's top, he noticed it was out of coffee beans. Then he noticed a sticky note at the bottom of the container, and pulled it off with a snap. It read:

To Ed,

No coffee left? :(

Stay away from my terminal. :)

Flynn

Dillinger scowled and shoved the note in his pocket, but heard a cough behind him. Dillinger turned to see Flynn sitting at the table in the middle of the room, a cup of hot coffee in his hand. Dillinger eyed him.

'This is very immature of you, Flynn. I hope you realise I can just go downstairs and get some coffee from there if I really want.' Dillinger explained, putting his mug back in the cupboard. 'I won't be playing your little game.'

Flynn grinned, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms behid his head. His striped shirt stretched across his chest.

'There's no game, I'm just enjoying the thought of you not getting your morning coffee on time.'

'How wonderful for you,' Dillinger said, before walking out of the coffee room and closing the door behind him with a click.

* * *

Sark arrived back at the communications building terminal after receiving new orders from his User. Dillinger had been very busy lately, and Sark now sensed a presence in his program but not one he could access. The MCP. He had to implant the MCP into the Grid somewhere.

Yori approached him from behind.

'Your User is certainly busy. Are you sure you're stable? Your User seems to be giving you a lot of new code.'

'I am in development,' Sark agreed. 'But that doesn't mean I'm not a stable program.'

He swiped the terminal board with interest. The Carrier would be complete soon.

Yori eyed his terminal uneasily.

'Are you sure you don't need a break?'

Sark shook his head, his eyes focused on the terminal. The blue circuits on his suit were getting dimmer, but he was determined.

'My User wants this completed as soon as possible. It is nearly finished.'

A few nanoseconds later, Sark stood back from the terminal in triumph. His arms fell to his sides and he sighed deeply. His eyes closed for a brief moment.

'Yori, this is a sight you will remember until the day you are derezzed.'

Sark reached forward and pressed a button on his terminal. As he did so, red light shot up into his suit and spread all over his body, bright sparks shooting off him. Sark's circuits lit up and hummed loudly as they were energised. The suit glowed for several moments as it changed shape and colour. What was once an ordinary blue-suit became a red suit of a Commanding Officer.

Yori gasped as Sark turned to face her, arrow markings over his suit, points at the very top. Sark was promoted Commanding Officer of the Grid.

'Just who is your User, anyway?' Yori asked.

Sark smirked. 'Ed Dillinger. And things are going to change around here. The Grid will be receiving a security upgrade very soon.'

Yori frowned. 'But we don't need a security upgrade. We haven't had any infiltrations for a long time.'

'No, Yori,' Sark said, 'it can happen and it will happen if we don't act to secure our networks. I am a security program, I know security better than anyone in this Grid. Or do you question my judgement?'

Yori was silent. She shook her head.

'Then show me the way to the Solar Sail. I want to show you my new Carrier.'

Sark gathered the attention of many programs as he walked through the communications building. Many of them hadn't seen a red-suited program in their entire cycles, let alone a Commanding Officer. Some of them even approached Sark to touch his red and white suit but he brushed them away like flies.

'Feast your processors on your new Commanding Officer,' Sark announced. 'My User has given me explicit instructions to travel to the center of the Grid on the Carrier and to implant a new program into the center. That program will be the relay center for all subsequent interactions in the Grid.'

'What program is that?' Yori asked, and she started to punch in a code into a grey wall next to a sliding door.

'The MCP,' Sark said.

'The Master Chess Program? That's always been around.'

'No! The Master Control Program,' Sark snapped. But before he could get any more annoyed, Yori opened the door to the docking bay. Sark pressed a few circuits on his red arm as they entered and suddenly, a large black and red Carrier appeared in the sky above them, the Solar Sail only miniscule in comparison.

It was truly magnificent. It was controllable only by Sark.

Yori's mouth gaped and Sark patted her shoulder, the Carrier's shadow obscuring both of them except for their bright and buzzing circuits.

'Be a good program and keep an eye on the communications building, won't you?' Sark said. 'I have a job to do.'

Sark disappeared with a flash of light, and reappeared inside the Carrier. This room was one he would later become very familiar with. It had a podium with a communication screen. On the inside were several smaller red programs operating at terminals surrounding the podium. Nothing would come on the screen yet, not until the MCP was installed.

Yori watched in awe as the enormous Carrier above her head began to move slowly out of the docking bay and into the great expanse of Grid landscape before them, extending for nanometers upon nanometers.

'Oh my User...' she said.


	9. Chapter 9

Dillinger slipped into the senior executive's office once Mr. Franklin had arrived. The man was red eyed and weary, having just gotten back from a conference the previous day. And there were more to come, still.

'Good morning, Mr. Franklin!' Dillinger beamed, standing in front of the large black terminal that was Mr. Franklin's. 'I have news on my progress of Sark.'

'That's very good, Dillinger,' Mr. Franklin said, logging into his terminal. 'That's very good indeed. Would you be able to come back in about half an hour? I have some matters to discuss with some colleagues over at DRIFT.'

'Very well, Mr. Franklin,' Dillinger said, bowing his head briefly. 'I will see you at nine thirty.'

'Good lad,' Mr. Franklin said.

Dillinger stood for a few moments, staring at Mr. Franklin and his terminal before returning to his desk in the adjacent room. To his surprise, Lora and Flynn were standing at his cubicle and prevented his entry.

'Do you mind?' Dillinger said. 'I have work to do.'

'We wanted to talk to you about that, actually,' Lora explained, and she moved out of the way so Dillinger could get into his cubicle. Flynn stayed where he was and made sure Dillinger had a rough time getting in, but Lora scowled at him.

Dillinger sat at his chair and spun around to face his coworkers.

'Your Sark program has ovverided our programs's security buffers,' Flynn stated, his arms crossed. 'Did the big guy next door tell you this was an okay thing to do? Did he give you the Group 7 override code? Because that's a big deal. And I think we should know about it.'

'Of course he gave me the override code!' Dillinger said. 'Do you people have no trust in what I do?'

'Of course we do, Dillinger,' Lora exclaimed, and she glanced at Flynn. 'We were just concerned because Mr. Franklin normally announces this sort of thing. It seemed kind of suspicious.'

Dillinger eyed Flynn.

'I suppose this little meeting was Flynn's idea, hmm?' Dillinger forced a smile onto his face, peering at Flynn expectantly. 'Feeling insecure, I suppose?'

Flynn's jaw clenched. Lora placed a hand on Flynn's arm and shook her head in warning.

'Calm down, Flynn. He said Mr. Franklin gave him access.'

'Where's the proof of that, huh?' Flynn said, raising his voice a little too much. 'Show us the approval papers.'

'Those are classified documents, I have no reason to show them to you.' Dillinger said sternly. 'If you're so concerned send Mr. Franklin an email asking about my override codes. I'm sure he'd be happy to oblige. However, he is a very busy man. He's been at conferences over the weekend, I'm sure you know that.'

Flynn's lower jaw jut out in annoyance. Dillinger rose his eyebrows at him. Lora whispered something in Flynn's ear.

'Okay, okay!' Flynn shouted at Lora. 'I get it! But I'm not apologising.'

Flynn strode back to his desk after giving Dillinger a glare of disapproval. Lora stood in Dillinger's doorway and rolled her eyes as Flynn went away.

'I'm sorry about Flynn,' Lora admitted. 'This whole thing is really bringing out his bad side.'

Dillinger heard Flynn let out a bark of laughter. He watched Flynn get to his feet and take Lora's arm, dragging her down the walkway and out of sight. As they walked, he heard Flynn talking to Lora.

'_Stop doing that_! You're making me look bad!'

'You're making _yourself_ look bad. You're being completely hot headed. We've been working with Dillinger for years now, and this is how you treat him?' Lora shot back. 'I feel bad for Dillinger. We have no reason to be suspicious.'

As they walked down the blue-cubicled walkway, Dillinger turned around at his desk and sighed. He heard somebody behind him, and he turned to see Alan.

'I sent you the seeding code to look at,' Alan said briefly. Dillinger nodded at him.

'Thank you.'

Dillinger was hoping Alan would go back to his desk, but he didn't. He leaned on his cubicle wall and peered after Flynn and Lora arguing.

'I don't know about you, but I'm getting really tired of Flynn. All ever does is talk about you,' Alan said. 'He just complains. It's getting on my nerves.'

Dillinger listened passively, pressing his fingers together.

Alan continued. 'I thought he was a pretty nice guy at first, but he's being a jerk- and pretty paranoid too, if you ask me. And all about that dumb program he wrote. You know, he should have been more careful in the first place.'

'Yes, I agree,' Dillinger said, keen to end the workplace gossip session. 'Thank you again for letting me look at your code. I do appreciate it.'

'Oh, no problem at all,' Alan said, grinning. 'It's not quite finished yet, but who knows, maybe you'll see some things I can improve on.'

'I'll let you know if anything catches my eye,' Dillinger replied, before looking at his watch. 'I'm going to get some coffee, excuse me.'

Dillinger strode quickly down the walkway, wanting nothing more than peace and quiet. To his irritation, however, Flynn burst out of the coffee room as he was about to open the coffee room door. Flynn glanced at Dillinger and scowled before walking back to his desk.

Dillinger slipped through into the coffee room, only to see Lora with her head bent down, watching the coffee machine fill her mug. Dillinger shut the door behind him and approached. He pulled a mug out of the cupboard and placed it on the benchtop. They stood in silence, until Lora spoke up.

'Flynn showed me where he was keeping the coffee beans,' Lora said briefly. 'God, he's so immature sometimes!'

Dillinger noticed her eyes were red and puffy.

'Yes, everybody dislikes Flynn's rash nature,' Dillinger said, hoping to avoid a touchy-feely discussion about Lora and Flynn's relationship. 'Well, if it's any consolation, think how nice it is that you no longer have to sit in an adjacent cubicle.'

To his surprise, Lora laughed hysterically.

'You're right! I suppose I should thank you, huh?' She took a large gulp of coffee before nodding at Dillinger. She took another sip, closing her eyes for a moment. 'I'll see you round.'

Dillinger watched her walk out.

After he made and drank his own coffee, he noticed it was time to speak with Mr. Franklin. Hopefully the workplace antics would be over soon, but he had a sneaking suspicion he hadn't heard the end of it. He placed his mug in the sink and strode to Mr. Franklin's office.


	10. Chapter 10

Sark rode in his Carrier with pride. He peered out of nearby windows and watched the expansive Grid pass by. He then turned to the workers of the Carrier.

'You are all programs coded to listen to my instructions,' Sark exclaimed, watching the red-suited programs pressing buttons at terminals. 'Your roles are simple. Get the guards under my command so they may later be informed of security updates by either myself or the MCP.' Sark said authoritatively. He pointed at himself. 'Red is for security and order,' he pointed outside to the Grid and the numerous blue buildings in the far distance. 'And blue is for lesser-programs including all chaos. We must not let chaos prevail, do you understand? This is of utmost importance for the security of the Grid. Any blue program threatening a red program must be punished under my rule, and the rule of the future MCP's.'

Sark turned to face the communication screen. Yes, the Grid was finally moving somewhere useful.

* * *

Dillinger entered Mr. Franklin's office and stood before the great black terminal.

'You'll be pleased to hear that we'll be having extra hardware put onto this terminal, Dillinger,' Mr. Franklin said, patting the black monitor with glee. 'It will be able to manage your new security updates with greater efficiency than before.'

'That's wonderful news, Mr. Franklin,' Dillinger beamed. He took a deep breath. 'As you know, Mr. Franklin, I have been working very hard for the completion of the new security program for our company. Sark is completed. But I have also produced a joint-program to manage the entirety of ENCOM's networks and program sharing.'

'I'm impressed, Edward,' Mr. Franklin said, clapping his hands together and leaning forward at his desk. 'I may even have to give you a pay rise. I wasn't expecting this at all.'

'Yes, well,' Dillinger began. 'I have also encountered a problem that I think you might be able to help me with.'

'And what is that?'

'Well, you see, this joint-program – which I like to call the Master Control Program – is very advanced and complicated and requires a lot of processing power, much more than my simple office-computer can provide.' Dillinger began, watching Mr. Franklin's blank face with unease. He stood his ground. 'Mr. Franklin, I was wondering if I may be able to install the Master Control Program into this computer terminal? It would be worth it, I assure you. Without the MCP, Sark has only a portion of its security power as a program.'

Mr. Franklin rose from his desk, shaking his head.

'Look, Dillinger. I can't let you do that. Only senior executives can use this computer.'

'But, Mr. Franklin! I don't think you understand what a powerful program this is. If you'd only look at it, you'd see that it is more than deserving of running on the computer – especially given the new hardware upgrades it will be getting.'

Mr. Franklin approached Dillinger and looked up into his face. Dillinger was distraut at the news, but Mr. Franklin patted him on the arm, as if that was supposed to make everything better.

'I'm sorry, Edward,' Mr. Franklin said. 'I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it's just not possible given the circumstances.'

Dillinger took a deep breath and exhaled, slowly. He flexed his fingers and toes, trying to regain his composure. He didn't just want a pay rise! He thought quickly, his mind speeding past every option possible.

'You're not likely to change your view on this?' Dillinger queried. Mr. Franklin dropped his hand and shook his head. Dillinger frowned, feeling immense disappointment. Suddenly, his mind jumped onto something.

'Mr. Franklin, what would it take for somebody to be promoted to a position such as yours?'

Sweat broke out on Mr. Franklin's brow. He took a checkered hankerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his forehead.

'Well, you'd have to be able to make a program which would sell very well,' Mr. Franklin explained. 'But I'm afraid your Master Control Program doesn't have that capability - it would be too specialised to our network.'

Dillinger nodded, thinking, his mind finally focusing on Flynn and his video game code. If he were to gain access to it and name it his own...

'What about a video game?' Dillinger continued. 'I mean, I should be honest with you, Mr. Franklin. I do understand their profit potential, even if I never was one for playing them,' Dillinger continued, letting the words drop out of his mouth, trying to make them seem as convincing as possible. 'You see, I have the code for a game that I think would make quite a profit.'

Mr. Franklin stared at Dillinger, his eyes wide.

'_Another_ program? Edward, that is just astounding. I've been telling you to take a holiday. You've been working overtime a lot, lately. I -'

'Would you be interested in seeing this program?' Dillinger asked, interrupting the senior executive's blubbering. 'If necessary you could even present it at your next conference tomorrow.'

Mr. Franklin dabbed forehead again with the hankerchief, his tiny eyes watering and his demeanor agitated. 'Why, yes! Of course I'm interested!'

Dillinger beamed and nodded his head.

'Mr. Franklin, I won't let you down. And don't worry about your job,' Dillinger said, observing the fear in the man's face. 'You're a very capable man. I'm sure a promotion would be offered to you given you've helped guide such a resourceful worker, don't you think?'


	11. Chapter 11

Dillinger was disappointed to later receive an email from Mr. Franklin stating that he wasn't allowed to present any new programs to any conferences until the next ones - three months away. This was because the presentation slots for the current meetings were already full. Dillinger decided this was probably for the better. He was already producing quirks on Sark in order to manage what he needed to do next: Steal Flynn's computer game code, covering up his tracks in the process.

Dillinger never considered himself a malicious person. Perhaps one keen for safety and security, to protect his own interests. Perhaps somebody who was a little bit sneaky, self serving or selfish. But as he wrote the new quirks into Sark, he felt a pang of guilt. Maliciousness was not entirely in his character.

But, he reasoned, he felt the means would justify the end.

There was no way he was going to get to a higher position without stealing Flynn's program. There wasn't any other way. He couldn't produce a game of his own, he didn't have enough personal experience with them to make anything worthwhile. He thought making the Master Control Program would have been enough. Truly, it was a potentially revolutionizing piece of security software. Imagine a virus scan that could learn from its previous mistakes or errors without the input of human beings?

Dillinger's fingers darted across the keyboard, debugging his minor add on with zealousness. He could not even be interrupted by Alan's queries about the seeding code. Once Dillinger finally ran Sark's program again, his computer promptly froze. And so did every other computer at ENCOM.

'What the heck is going on!?' Flynn exclaimed from behind Dillinger, hitting his computer with a resounding bang. 'Work, you piece of junk!'

'You're not the only one,' Alan's voice reverberated through the air. 'What about you, Ed?'

'Yes,' Dillinger admitted, spinning around on his chair to peer at the two. 'Yes, my computer has frozen as well.'

* * *

Sark was standing at the center of ENCOM's system. Tall blue walls protected a single blue beam that shot into the sky and out of sight.

Sark kneeled and pressed his hand into the beam, disrupting its normal passage. Red sparks jut off the beam as Sark inserted the MCP program. The blue beam now became deep red. It shot into the sky, the prior blue now completely forgotten.

'Here we go, baby!' Sark said. A smile spread across his face.

In an instant, the red beam expanded until a large cylindrical shape took its place. A stretched face with eyes and mouth turned to face Sark. The MCP!

'Master Control!' Sark glowed. The MCP was not yet fully active, but it was staring at Sark.

The ground underneath Sark's feet began to shake. The outer portion of the blue platform he was standing on cracked, red light filling the gaps like lava. With a loud zapping noise, all the communication networks and lines extending from the center flickered and became a bright red colour. Sark watched from afar, his eyes wide. He turned back towards the MCP, the ground still rumbling.

'Crimson is certainly your colour, Master Control!' Sark said loudly, over the noise.

The MCP flickered briefly, and movement came to its face.

'You know as well as I do what has to be done now, Sark,' the MCP said, its technologically morphed voice very loud, putting Sark's chatter to an end. 'There are files that need reorganising in order to keep with our security measures.'

The rumbling at his feet came to a sudden stop, everything eerily silent. Sark swiped a circuit on his arm. Sark expected to appear within the Carrier at any moment, but nothing happened. Sark's eyes and mouth twitched outside of his control. His pixels flickered. He tried again, but to no avail.

'You have to go on foot, Sark,' the MCP said.

Sark peered up at the MCP in bewilderment.

'Easy for you to say without legs!'

'There is no time for complaining. Go now, Sark,' The MCP commanded. 'End of Line.'

Sark's legs moved slowly, his entire movement jagged. His red circuits were now dim, and his body twitched. This would be an arduous journey indeed.

'All communication networks are currently inoperable,' Sark muttered, peering around from the system's center. 'The system... The MCP overloaded it.'

The walls that were previously bright and blue now flickered. The sound of his footsteps reverberated thoughout the area.

Sark slid down the large platform and landed on the ground, grimacing at the effort. He peered several nanometers away, observing the low dimmed buildings against the horizon. That was his destination, the file archive. Sark picked up the pace and ran.

Sark ran slowly, panting, his red circuits flickering in protest, his components undergoing momentary hiccups. With the MCP now running, he couldn't function to his full capacity. He expected every other program was experiencing the same thing.

The Commanding Officer finally reached the tall archives. Remembering his User's instructions, he input the security codes and opened the doors. He slipped down the long blue-and-white passageways, looking for the data disk that he needed. He was looking for a number of .cpp files as stored under the User Flynn.

'Where are you?' Sark murmured, reading the identification codes on the zip folders with weariness.

The program had to look manually through every file and folder. A simple search function was completely off limits, lest he prevent his own code from running. To his glee, however, he soon found it. The files took the appearance of an identity disk.

'Aha!' Sark announced. He slid a flickering hand over the disk, and an identical copy materialised in his other hand. He moved quickly and placed the copy in his User's files. Then, Sark took the original disk in both hands and snapped it in two. With a flash of light, the original file disappeared with an unhappy beeping sound.

Just for good measure, he took a few other disks out of their place in the archive and snapped them as well.

Satisfied, Sark left the archive, out of breath. He identified the center of the system with its blue walls and red beam at the horizon, and began to walk towards it.


End file.
